You've got the heart of a star
by maggiequeen
Summary: A collection of unrelated Puckleberry prompt fills./ / Sex makes me uncomfortable.
1. Chapter 1

**Prompt by smc_27 at the puckrachel drabble meme on LJ: "Hey, so you're gonna marry me, right?" "_Please _tell me this isn't how you're proposing."**

They're pretty serious. Like, they love each other and they've been living together for a couple of years now, and his mother loves her and her dads hardly ever threaten to pull out the Winchester and hide his body where no one would find it (they only say that a couple times a year, generally around the time they're back to Lima for the holidays, but he's cool). Anyway, he knows she's the one. There's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with, and any period of time when he's not practically attached to her hip has the potential to make him miserable. He never actually told her he wants them to be together forever, but c'mon he's not that hard to read. He figures it was a given, that he wouldn't need to go and tell her like it was (not) big fucking news.

He's wrong.

They're hanging out at Finn and Brittany's apartment, and somehow the conversation deviates into Puck and Rachel and their future as a couple, with Brittany suggesting they coordinated their birth control and get pregnant at the same time and Finn saying something how he really hopes they serve real people food in their wedding and not just Rachel's vegan shit. Puck laughs, although the prospect of Finn and Brittany producing offspring is a scary notion, but whatever. Rachel smiles (rather tightly, he thinks) and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like _'Maybe' _before she changes the subject asking Finn about Kurt.

That shit does _not _fly.

_'Maybe'_? What the fuck does she mean, _'maybe'_? They will serve real people food at their wedding and they will have babies. He hasn't figured out the timetable yet, but it is happening. How can she doubt that?

The drive back home is quiet, mostly on his part though. She can tell he's in a mood, and he can tell she's worried. But hell, he's worried too! Because if she doesn't feel the same way he does about their future, then what's he supposed to do? He wants that future, but he wants it with her, and if Rachel's just biding her time until someone better comes along, he'll...

He'll be completely, irreversibly fucked.

She's talking about some errands she needs to run tomorrow and he just can't take it anymore. He's known he'd be spending the rest of his life next to Rachel Berry since he was nineteen years old and she (fucking finally) agreed to go out with him after weeks and weeks of wooing. This shit needs to happen.

"Hey, so you're gonna marry me, right?"

The words are out before his brain has time to filter them, and that's probably a good thing. He's looking straight ahead, studiously avoiding glancing at her. He's badass and all, but this is life we're talking about. He simply cannot live without her.

He's not sure she heard him though. That kind of question is bound to get a reaction, not complete silence. What if she did hear him but she's actually considering her answer? Doing some sort of fucked up pro/con mental list? That's not cool.

"_Please_ tell me this isn't how you're proposing."

She wants to smile, he can tell by her voice. He pulls over, turns off the engine and turns to look at her. She tries to look unimpressed, but she's biting her lip and her eyes are shining and maybe he's an idiot for thinking she didn't want him like he wants her.

"Are you gonna?" he smirks, and now there's not a doubt in his mind she'll say yes.

"Are you really proposing?"

"If you say yes, I'll get a ring and do it right," he promises as his hand finds hers and holds it over his thigh.

"Yes," she beams, a few tears welling in her eyes and pulls his face close enough to kiss him.

They get back on the road, their hands still firmly joined and with some seriously hot quasi-engagement celebration sex ahead of them.

"Just don't do it on the truck," Rachel pleads.


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt by graydawning at the puckrachel drabble meme on LJ: After seeing people's reactions to Santana's boob job, Rachel starts to contemplate going under the knife herself.**

The self-sufficient, proud, independent woman in her is keenly offended right now. She's been dating Finn for a couple of months now and try as she may, she cannot recall a single time he was this enthusiast over a make out session. The way his hands feel the noticeable swell of her bosom, clumsy at best, is failing to get her as into this as he apparently is. Not to mention the supply closet they're occupying at the moment is far too crowded and dark and for some reason it smells like boiled cabbage. She can tell he's 'excited', but she's just not feeling it. Also, he's never paid so much attention to her breasts before, even though she gave him the green light to do so nearly as soon as they became an item back in the summer. She tells herself she's being silly, really, after all, this is precisely the reaction she was hoping to get when she put in motion this experiment of hers. She wanted to make Finn happy, she wanted him to want her in all the ways a boyfriend should want his girlfriend, so that she may act upon it.

He wants her alright. He wants the big breasted _lie_ she's turned into for him.

Ooo

It starts in the locker rooms.

She's stepping out of her gym clothes, neatly folding her yoga pants and sweatshirt before stepping into one of the cubicles for a quick shower. Her sports bra is completely soaked and her wrists hurt and are starting to bruise; she curses Coach Bieste for making her play volleyball when she detests it so much.

Santana and Brittany walk past her, casting snide glances her way (nothing out of the ordinary there...) as they make their way to the other side of the room to their lockers.

Why Santana would feel the need to alter her body in any way is a mystery to Rachel. She's confident enough with her sexuality to admit that yes, Santana Lopez is a quite beautiful young woman, with all the right 'attributes' boys in today's teen culture seem to be interested in. Testament of that is her rampant promiscuity.

And there was nothing wrong with the size of her breasts. They were in proportion with Santana's height and weight and they looked perfectly normal and healthy. The fact that Santana went under knife to get a breast augmentation speaks loudly of her insecurities.

Personally, Rachel's perfectly content with her own 34 A. They don't get in the way and she's comfortable with herself. That's really all she cares about.

(Except Finn never touches her there, even though she periodically reminds him he's allowed to. Or, if he does, he grows bored rather quickly and moves on to grip her hip. He's probably not a boob man, or whatever it's called.)

Ooo

It continues on the halls.

It's like she's a boy magnet. Literally every male within a twenty feet radium is openly ogling Santana's chest. For a girl who lives under the influence of an empowering woman such as Sue Sylvester is, Santana is taking far too much pleasure being in the limelight due to an unnecessary, shallow and idiotic (she's seventeen years old, for God's sake) cosmetic surgery.

She sees Finn approach Santana, talking at her and looking at her with a fire in his eyes that is completely foreign to Rachel.

Ooo

It carries on to Glee Club.

Even Mr. Schuester has a hard time (ha! She can come up with innuendos too!) looking at Santana straight in the eye. He keeps glancing down and blushing profusely. She should really find a looser Cheerio top to wear. It's bordering indecent.

She and Finn have an honest relationship, and it works just fine. Basically, they don't beat around the bush when they have something to say, no matter the potentially catastrophic outcome of their full-disclosure policy. So when she sees his mouth water, his eyes practically glued to Santana's bosom, Rachel's not particularly reticent to ask him if he likes what he sees.

He says 'yes' without skipping a beat, or glancing at her for that matter.

And just because she has a penchant for sentimental masochism when it comes to Finn Hudson, Rachel goes the extra mile and asks the question that's been bothering since she first noticed his eyes drifting in the direction of Santana's general chest area.

"Do you... like mine as well?"

His head snaps to look at her so fast she fears he'll get whiplash. A well deserved whiplash.

"Look, Rach, your body's awesome, even if you're like, a midget or something," he smiles his trademark lopsided grin and momentarily glances to Santana. "I love you, you know that," he kisses her cheek and pulls her to the hall when the bell rings. "I'd really like it if your boobs were bigger," he shrugs, walking her to the parking lot. "But you do the best you can with what you got."

She nods, not exactly sure how she feels about his confession.

Ooo

She did some shopping that afternoon. She bought a push-up padded bra and silicone shappers. Combined, they gave her nearly two cup sizes of boost. Her favorite pink button down wouldn't fit her though, so she wore a white top under it and left the shirt open from the waist up.

Finn's eyes zero in on her immediately. He actually thinks she got a boob job, and is a little down when she explains that no, you can't have cosmetic surgery overnight.

"But I'm thinking about it," she adds quickly.

And she's being completely honest too. That's what this bra stuffing experiment is all about. She's weighting her options, considering every venue, every alternative, and if she chooses to alter her body for purely personal reasons, then there's nothing wrong with that. Her body belongs to her and no one else, she can do whatever she wants.

And it's okay if she wants him to want her and make him happy.

Ooo

"The fuck you think you're doing Rachel?"

She wasn't expecting to find him (or anyone) in the choir room in between classes. She likes to go there to check the trumpet girl and the bassist aren't having intercourse on the piano (it's happened and Rachel unfortunately witnessed it. If Tinkles only knew...).

Apparently, he was waiting for her.

"Hello Noah. Did you require my assist-"

"Cut the crap and explain," he barks, his scowl darkening.

"I beg your pardon?"

His left eye twitches (it's hilarious really, but she figures he wouldn't appreciate it, should she burst in a laughing fit) as he continues to stare at her. His eyes drift south towards her chest, glaring at her breast as if they had offended him.

"Kindly stop staring at my breasts."

"You mean your fake tits?" he snorts. "You're stuffing your bra, what are you? Twelve?"

She gasps, eyes stinging. "It's none of your business," she turns around to leave, but he closes the distance between them in two strides and comes to stand before the door.

"You can talk to me."

She should slap him after he just insulted her. She shouldn't want to cry and tell him she feels stupid and that her breasts hurt a little and she just wants to go home and change into a more comfortable bra.

"If you must know," she says as calm and collected as she can muster. "I'm considering the possibility of getting a breast augmentation surgery."

"I know," he grits out. "Finn told me. By the way? Finn's a dick, you don't need a boob job."

She hugs herself, looks down, the ridiculously round swell of her stuffed bra obsenely peeking out from under her shirt.

"It has nothing to do with Finn."

She feels his calloused fingers ghost on her jaw, gently lifting her chin up to meet his eyes. She's positively shocked to find them looking so soft. "Don't do it. You're perfect just the way you are."

She faintly remembers trying to push him away when he tries to hug her the moment her tears start to flow freely. He's stronger than her and hugs her tightly, cradling her to his chest as wave after wave of sobs comes and goes.

Ooo

It ends on the supply closet.

Because Finn is going to love her new boobs (he tells her this, repeatedly, and insisted she got them done before the summer so her rack would look hot on a bikini) and is one-hundred percent on board with her going under surgery (and all the health risks it would entail) to fit his beauty criteria. She's sure, right now, that Finn doesn't fit her _person_ criteria.

Because there's another boy who thinks she's beautiful the way she is, and it feels good, believing he's right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Prompt by eyesofgarnet on the LJ Puck/Rachel drabble meme: "You need to come home right now." "Babe, I really can't I'm in the middle of..." "No, Noah, you need to come home right now. I just woke up to your mother measuring my hips and now she's trying to take a complete medical history of me and my family. I'm scared." "Why is she even in New York? I talked to her last night and she was home." "I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out how she got into the apartment...ok you really need to come home now, she's trying to discuss baby names with me."**

"'Sup sexy mama. How you doin'?"

The long suffering sigh on the other side of the line tells right away that Rachel is definitely _not_ in the mood to take his greeting as anything other than charming and badass.

"I'm going to ignore how uncomfortable that ridiculous name you insist on calling me makes me feel and just how inappropriate and grammatically incorrect that sentence was, all right? I did not call to give you a lesson in proper English-speaking."

"Yeah, bet you called 'cause you're all hot and bothered and you totally get off on my sexy voice, didn't ya mama?"

Another long suffering sigh was all he got from her, followed by the sound of the toilet flush (yuck) and then a moment later the shower running.

"Babe?" he says tentatively, moving to close the door of his office. His boss is cool and all but he gets paid to catch serial killers and stuff, not talking to his hot wife on the taxpayers' dime.

"Yes, Noah?"

"You wet?"

"Noah!" she gasped, scandalized. "For God's sake, have some decency! It's ten AM!"

"So? You know I'm up for you at all times baby."

Yet _another_ long suffering sigh (he got a lot of those generally speaking) and Puck grinned widely. She was so fucking cute when she was pissed at him.

"You need to come home right now." Rachel whines lamely. She sounds like she's about to burst in tears and if he hadn't been dealing with her random and overly dramatic mood swings for three months now Puck might actually be worried something bad happened. Chances are she just got one of those lame emails about saving kittens and whales Kurt is always sending and got emotional.

"Babe, I really can't." He sighs. Lord knows he'd love to be around her all the time. It's been a rough couple of months –there was bleeding and two visits to the ER and lots of crying, specially the second time, from the both of them, when it seemed like they were losing the baby, and she had to take a break from Broadway, so she's alone at their apartment all day long and he hates it, but other than wishing he doesn't get fucked with paperwork or lands a time consuming case and makes it home by five, there nothing he can do about it. "I'm in the middle of..."

"No, Noah, you need to come home right now."

The sheer terror in her voice sobers him down like a cold slushie dripping down to his underwear.

"Rachel, what's going on there?"

She sniffles and it's all he can do not to burst out the door and run the fifteen blocks between the station and their apartment.

"I locked myself on the bathroom and let the shower running so she can't hear me talking to you."

Instinctively, he reaches for his gun. What the fuck was going on back home?

"Rach, baby, who are you hiding from?"

She stops sniffling and it feels like forever till she finally answers his question.

"I woke up to your mother measuring my hips and telling me awful stories about stretch marks. She showed me her abdomen, Noah. I'm scared."

He can barely hear what she's saying through the loud ringing on his ears. On one hand, he's pretty fucking glad Rachel's not on actual danger, but on the other, having his mother share his zip code is really fucking bad.

"Why is she even in New York? I talked to her last night and she was home."

"I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out how she got into the apartment..." There's a muffled knocking on her side of the line and he can hear his mother high-pitched voice asking Rachel how much longer she's going to take."She threw away my vegan food Noah. She's making breakfast right now and I smell sausages and scrambled eggs, it's disgusting!" she whisper-shouted. "And she expects me to eat that while she takes a complete medical history of me and my family and we discuss appropriate Jewish names. She brought a list, Noah, a list!"

"Rach, baby, calm down-"

"Don't tell me what to do! You know what she's like. She purchased a whole nursery for her home. And she set the crib right next to her bed!"

"Shit. Really? That's crazy."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

He chuckles. Fucked up as it was, that did sound like something his mother would do and frankly he was expecting something _exactly_ like this last night when he called her and told her the happy news. Instead she was stunned to silence and didn't even guilt tripped him for waiting till the three month mark to tell her she was gonna finally get the Jewish grandbaby she's been going on and on about since he was sixteen. He's not even all that shocked about the whole nursery thing. She probably just bought it when she had definite proof that he and Rachel were sleeping together and has been biding her time ever since.

"Okay, I'm gonna be home as soon as I can, babe. But you know she's just excited right? I mean, she loves us and she's wanted this for a long time."

"I know that Noah and I love her too." she sighs. He can practically see her sitting over the toilet lid, clutching the phone and resting her head on the tiled wall next to her. "I'm sorry. I think I'm just overreacting."

"Nah, she's batshit crazy." he shrugs with a smile on his face. "S'part of her charm."

She giggles. "I love you."

"I know." He smirks. He knows she hates it when he doesn't say the words back but whatever, he _does_ and she knows it. He's better at showing her anyway.

They're about to hang up when there's another knock on the bathroom door.

"Yes Aviva?"

"I just wanted to let you know I already emptied your closet of all those skimpy tops and short skirts you wear. I brought my old maternity clothes and I laid down a _lovely_ dress for you on your bed."

"What did you do with my clothes?"

"Don't you worry about a thing darling. I'll drop it off at the Salvation Army after we're done with breakfast. We have to put some meat in your bones, Rachel."

Rachel is seething and he knows that as soon as she marches out of the bathroom it's gonna be a shitstorm. Those two rarely fight, but when they do it's big and messy and Yiddish curses are exchanged and objects fly and they end up crying. He better get home _right now_. "I'm on my way. Don't kill her before I get there. I'll help with the body."

"Would you mind stopping by the bagel store on your way home? And don't forget the Tofutti French Onion spread I like, I'm really hungry."

"Got it. I'll see you in a bit."

"Oh and you don't think we could possibly move far away and never tell your mother out address, do you?"

He barks a laugh as he exits his office, the sound drowned by the ringing of three unattended phones and the general buzz of conversation. "Babe, I thought you'd never ask."


	4. Chapter 4

**Prompt by pristhebest: **

**Dr. Cameron: I'm uncomfortable about sex.  
Dr. Chase: Well, we don't have to talk about this...  
Dr. Cameron: Sex could kill you. Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you're lifting three times your body weight. It's violent, it's ugly and it's messy, and if God hadn't made it unbelievably fun, the human race would have died out eons ago. [pause to breathe deep and stare at each other] Men are lucky they can only have one orgasm. Do you know that women can have an hour long orgasm?**

It's not his place to ask. It's really not. They're sort of friends and all and sometimes he drives her home when her dads can't pick her up and sits next t her on Glee when no one else does, but they don't make a habit of talking about this kind of stuff.

_Sex._

She knows he's having it and he knows she's not. Didn't really take that much to figure out either since he's basically a man-whore and she's a self proclaimed virgin. He knew it back when they were dating last year and was actually the only one who instinctively knew, even before Finn knew for a fact, that she hadn't put out for St. James.

And he's fine with it. She's free to make her own decisions and if she's waiting for the right guy and the right time to fuck then whatever. It's not entirely crazy. Just because he was desperate to stick it in the first wet, hot and willing pussy he came across doesn't mean everybody thinks like him. Sure, most of the girls he fucks do, but that's beside the point. Plus, it's not like he didn't already know Rachel was different than other girls.

It's just that he vividly remembers her epic storm out of the Celibacy Club, her words (_girls want sex just as much as boys do_) are practically engraved in his brain. He's not ashamed of admitting he was a little jealous she had the balls to tell Quinn and that sham of a club to stick it where the sun don't shine like he wanted to so many fucking times. But Santana promised she'd cut him off if he did so, you know, priorities. Anyway. She was a total badass that day and got him totally hard too, but the point is, she said (in many more fancy and elaborate words and no cursing) that abstinence was bullshit.

So he doesn't get it. There's no way what Finn said today in Glee is true.

"Can I ask you something?" he glances her way, thinking, not for the first time that she looks kind of cute perched on the bench seat, her hands under her thighs and her legs dangling back and forward as she stares out the window. He started driving her home whenever he could when she told him Finn let her stranded at the tree lot and she had to hail a cab to get back home.

"Sure." She turns to look at him, genuinely interested and paying him her full attention.

"What Finn said about you waiting to have sex till you're twenty five." He starts, instantly noticing the change in her face from relaxed and smiling to anxious and tight-lipped. "Is it true?"

She bites her lip, a frown darkens her eyes and she looks away.

He shouldn't have asked. Fuck. Now she's upset.

"We don't have to talk about it..." he says quickly, shifting awkwardly on his seat. If she starts crying, he's seriously fucked.

"Sex makes me uncomfortable."

She blurts it out and try as she might she can't take it back. She blushes and her eyes widen so big he fears they might pop out, and it's a dead giveaway that she didn't want to share that.

"Okay."

"Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? I started researching when I dated Jesse to prepare myself and what I found did absolutely nothing to ease my fears. Sex could kill you. Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you're lifting three times your body weight. It's violent, it's ugly and it's messy. It's dangerous. I'm- It scares me. I honestly don't understand how the human race didn't die out eons ago."

He thinks about that and it's a little messed up and kinda creepy that she knows that but it's also complete bullshit. If she knew what sex was really like she wouldn't be afraid of it.

"I don't appreciate that." she sulks in her seat (apparently he said that out loud), crossed arms hugging her. "I just shared something very deep and personal with you. I never would've had I known you'd just mock me."

"That's not what I meant. Look. Sex is awesome. It's exciting and you get this rush coursing through your bones like electricity only better because it feels so good. Your skin tingles and your head spins a little. You can't think, you just feel. Every touch, every kiss is intensified and you feel it all the way down your toes. You get this itch and you feel you're gonna claw out of your skin unless you scratch it just right. Only every time you do scratch you want more and more and you keep going up like you're on fire and I swear, Rach, the rest of the world disappears and it's just you and the other person and you're so desperate to get there and finding release you go a little crazy. You completely lose yourself to something higher when you're having sex. And when you get there, when your toes curl and you spasm and you scream your release out, it's the most beautiful thing in the world. God made it un-fucking-believably fun, trust me."

His eyes, fixed on the road for the entire duration of his speech, venture a sideways glance to catch her reaction.

Her cheeks are flushed, her bottom lip a little bruised like she's been biting it for the last couple of minutes, her eyes dark, lit with a spark of something he's never seen in her before. She lets out a shaky breath, her chest heaving. Her tongue darts out to lick her suddenly dry lips just as her eyes flicker to his for a fraction of a second.

The truck jerks to a stop on her driveway and she climbs out studiously avoiding his eye, the words good-bye falling from her lips in a shaky whisper as she turns away.

She's half way down to the front door (he's not leaving until he sees her lock it behind her) when she turns around and strides back to the truck. He rolls down the window, smirking, because if there's one thing he's good at is recognizing a turned on chick and Rachel? She's displaying all the tell tale signs.

"I'm still waiting till I'm twenty-five." She states. "My decision was made in solid, scientific facts and while you rise a very interesting point I hadn't quite taken into account I'm afraid it's not enough to sway me from it. I'll see you tomorrow." With that she turns on her heels and marches down to her house.

He shakes his head, an amused smile tugging the corners of his lips, as he peels off her driveway.

Ooo

She waits. They start dating on their senior year and she waits. They do other sexual stuff but she waits. They break up towards the end of their freshman year of college and she continues to wait. They get back together on junior year, keep a long distance relationship, move together after they graduate and she's still waiting. She becomes a pro at hand jobs and blow jobs and he takes care of her needs just right. They cuddle every night and she waits. She lands her first role on Broadway and he gets promoted and they wait. They move to a nicer apartment and they get off dry humping against the door. He proposes, she says yes. They plan the wedding and talk about how many kids they're going to have. She turns twenty five, and the wedding is only two weeks away, so they wait a little more.

On their wedding night there's no waiting, only slow sweet surrender.


End file.
